


Bucky's Very Bad Day

by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grocery Shopping, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/buckybarnesdeservestobehappy
Summary: Steve and Bucky trading soft, sleepy kisses as they cuddle up in bed after a long day, burrowed together under a soft, fluffy duvet. Their guards down, eyes closed, curled into each other as they steal soft little kisses right before they fall asleep in each other’s arms.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	Bucky's Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musette22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musette22/gifts).



“I’m here,” Steve calls as he enters his apartment. He’s been waiting all day to get home to Bucky, and he’s finally able to toss aside his responsibilities and spend time with the person he loves most in the world.

There’s no answer, which he finds a little disconcerting as he sets his bag down on the couch and shrugs off his jacket. Patches of lights from floor and table lamps litter the walls, but the apartment is quiet and lacks the liveliness he expected as he anticipated his arrival. Bucky’s supposed to be here.

Steve jumps as a soft thump echoes behind him. He turns to see an upturned face with wide eyes and a swishy snow-white tail. With a fond grin, he scratches Alpine under the chin and coos, “Where’s your daddy, sweetheart?” The cat leans into his fingers before yawning widely and sauntering out of the room and down the hall. As he watches, she disappears into the master bedroom without a care in the world.

“Buck?” Steve asks as he patters behind the animal. “Where are you? What are you doing?”

He enters the bedroom and swivels his head to survey the entire area. Bucky’s nowhere to be found—that is, until Alpine jumps up on the bed and the lumpy mattress makes an unglorified “hmph”.

“Bucky?”

A grumble emanates from under the duvet, and Steve approaches the bed and pulls the blankets down to reveal his boyfriend tangled in the sheets. His long brown hair spills over his shoulder blades, and Steve trails the tips of his fingers over the bare skin of his neck peeking through the dark strands.

“Bad day?”

Bucky nods and sniffles as he buries his face deeper into the pile of pillows until his head almost disappears.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks gently, hoping to get Bucky to turn over and give him a smile.

Bucky shakes his head fiercely, which only succeeds in burrowing his head further until he’s covered down to his shoulders. Sighing, Steve nudges him sideways so he can sit on the edge of the mattress. When he’s braced enough not to slip off and land on the floor on his ass, he tries again.

“Is there anything I can do to convince you to come out from under there?”

Bucky grunts but, otherwise, doesn’t move, so Steve seeks out the warm skin of his boyfriend’s lower back. Bucky hums at the touch, but that quickly turns to a whimper when Steve rises and moves away from the bed. Without looking, Bucky reaches with his right arm and grasps at empty air.

“Give me a minute, sweetheart. Bathroom, pajamas, and then I’ll join you.”

Bucky’s hand drops so the crook of his elbow curves over the edge of the mattress. Steve takes that as his cue to move and does his business and changes into sleep pants and a tank top in record time. He slips through the apartment turning off the lights and setting the alarm before moving back down the hall and standing by the bed.

Bucky’s still nestled so deep in the bedding he’s practically invisible, and Steve chuckles softly at how adorable his boyfriend is when he’s sad or happy or excited or irritable or upset or—well, really anything. Bucky’s always as precious as gold, especially when he’s hiding from the world and waiting for Steve to come home to help make things better.

“Hey,” Steve says as he pulls back the duvet and slips underneath. When he’s on the same plane as Bucky, he can just barely make out the furrowed brow and trembling lips of the love of his life, and he reaches over and brushes hair out of those beautiful gray-blue eyes. Eyes that happen to be filled with tears and sorrow. “What’s wrong, baby?”

A broken noise catches in the back of Bucky’s throat, and Steve scoots closer so he can press up against his side. He’s stiff with tension, and Steve works to ease the rigidity of Bucky’s upper body.

“Shhh, I’m here,” he says in a soft, soothing voice that he hopes radiates a comforting vibe. “I’m right here. What’s got you all huddled up under the covers hiding from the big bad world?”

Bucky curls instinctively toward him and tucks his head under Steve’s chin. His hair tickles, but Steve tightens his arms around him and holds on tightly. The sniffles and whimpers intensify for a few minutes and then subside into quiet sighs that hold the weight of the world in their echoes.

“You’re so strong, Bucky. Brave and smart and loving. Selfless.” He drops a kiss to the crown of his boyfriend’s head. “Generous and compassionate. Tender-hearted and kind.”

“No, I’m not,” Bucky grumbles, and he shakes his shoulders miserably.

“You are,” he insists in a soft whisper directly into Bucky’s ear. “You’re all of those things and a hundred other wonderful things more. I’m so proud of you. Love you so much.”

Incrementally, Bucky’s shoulders relax under the resolve of Steve’s embrace until he’s limp and calm. His breaths even out into deep inhales and slow exhales that puff against Steve’s chest and trail along his neck.

“I went to the grocery store,” Bucky mumbles against Steve’s shoulder. “You asked if I could pick up a few things, and I had a list. I thought it was going to be okay.”

“I take it things didn’t go as planned?”

Bucky shivers in his arms, and he runs his hand absently along Bucky’s right arm, all the way down to his wrist and then back up to his biceps, solid and hard even when unflexed. The latent power beneath Bucky’s soft skin is one of the sexiest things Steve’s ever had the pleasure of feeling.

“There were so many people there. Some sort of vendor appreciation day and people with samples at the end of every aisle. All of them shoving stuff in my face and yelling at me to take it. I couldn’t find what you—we—needed, and there was no one to ask for help, and then someone dropped a gallon of milk, and I—” He chokes on his words, and Steve squeezes his elbow to comfort him. “The bang was so loud, Steve. I had to get out of there.”

“That’s okay, Bucky. It’s okay. You did great.”

“I ran home, and I crawled in here. All you wanted was for me to help you out. All I had to do was get some milk and eggs and bread and whatever the hell else it is that you think we need when a storm’s coming, and I couldn’t… I just couldn’t. I’m sorry, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Buck.”

“But I—”

“No, stop. You followed your instinct. Fight and flight are two perfectly acceptable options, and in this case, I think you hiding in bed is a hell of a lot better than beating up a baby boomer in a black apron and baseball cap hocking cheese to unsuspecting grocery shoppers.”

Bucky snorts, and Steve’s heart expands three sizes in his chest. That sound is music to his ears.

“So, can I get a kiss? Because I’ve been home for approximately 25 minutes, and I still haven’t even seen your face.”

Bucky pulls back to loll his head against Steve’s shoulder. A wry smile graces his lips, and his eyes are hooded and gloomy. “What? This old mug?”

“I happen to really, really like everything about it.”

“Like what?” Bucky asks, his tone suddenly cheeky.

“I don’t know,” Steve answers. “Maybe these lips.”

He brushes his over Bucky’s, and both release tiny moans as electricity sparks between them.

“These old things?”

“Old just means they have experience and know what they’re doing.”

A contented sigh reverberates through Bucky’s chest, and Steve slants his head to capture his boyfriend’s mouth in a searing kiss. Their lips part, and Steve slips his tongue into Bucky’s mouth. Heat spirals into a comforting, scorching bubble that eventually eases Bucky’s worries until he’s grinning so hard they can’t kiss anymore.

“Feel better?”

Bucky nods and smiles sheepishly. “Much. No beating up anyone in aprons today.”

Steve smooths the hair off Bucky’s forehead and kisses him there gently. “Have you eaten?” he asks and rolls his eyes when Bucky shakes his head self-consciously. “You forget?”

“I forgot.”

“Up,” Steve insists and tosses the duvet aside. “You need food.”

“I don’t want food,” Bucky whines, but he rises from the bed and follows Steve dutifully into the kitchen. Steve knows he’s hungry, no matter how much he pretends to be put upon by having to leave the bed. Steve heats some food and whips up a salad while pointing at Bucky to have a seat at the table.

“Sit,” he insists. “I’ve got you.”

Although it always drives Bucky a little up the wall to be coddled this way, Steve can tell his panic attack earlier exhausted him. Bucky watches him with tired eyes until Steve blushes.

“What?” he asks, a rueful grin twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Just grateful for a boyfriend who loves me enough to take over when I’m not okay.”

“It’s definitely a hardship,” Steve teases, but Bucky refuses to let him make light of his words.

“I’m serious, Stevie,” he insists. “And even better than you taking over, I also know I only have to eat before I can climb back into bed, pull the covers over my head, and cuddle with you while Alpine curls up into the curve behind my knees. Because that sounds really amazing right now.”

“Well, here’s to amazing leftover spaghetti,” Steve announces as he sets a plate in front of Bucky.

Steve fills his boyfriend in on his day at work as the two eat. After a few minutes, he remembers the bottle of wine in the fridge and pours them each a glass. There’s certainly not enough alcohol to get either of them drunk, but sipping the drink seems to ease the tension in Bucky’s face.

“Leave the dishes,” Bucky pleads once they’ve eaten. “I know it bothers you not to clean up, but I’m a little desperate here. Sensory overload is a thing, and I could use a blank slate. White sheets seem like a great idea right about now.”

Alpine meows from beneath the table, and Steve smiles indulgently. “Give me five minutes. Go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

Bucky doesn’t resist, so Steve hurries as much as he can. It only takes a few minutes to get the kitchen the way it should be, and then he rushes into the bedroom where Bucky’s…asleep. Curled on his side with wisps of hair brushing against his cheek. Steve can’t stop the dopey grin from sliding over his face. He has the most remarkable boyfriend in the entire world, and it doesn’t help at all that there’s a soft, fluffy, pristine white cat curled up on the pillows purring like a machine.

He crosses to his side of the bed and as carefully as possible lifts the duvet to slide under it. He’s not cautious enough because Bucky wakes as the mattress dips, and he blinks at Steve through sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” he says with a wide yawn. “I know you.”

Steve leans over to brush his lips against his boyfriend’s and is rewarded with an uncharacteristic giggle. “I know you, too. Your name’s Bucky.”

“Who the hell is Bucky? What a dumb name.”

“It’s the worst. If that’s what people called me, I’d be totally embarrassed.”

Bucky smirks as he scoots across the bed, so he’s pressed up against Steve. “Good thing I don’t embarrass too easily.”

“You don’t, huh?”

“Not even remotely,” Bucky answers, his voice as husky as Steve’s.

Their lips meet. And then again. Over and over in sweet, gentle caresses until Steve melts.

“I’m sorry about your day, baby,” he whispers into the darkness between them. There’s just enough light from the windows for him to see the sparkle in Bucky’s eyes. “If I could have, I would have gone with you.”

“That’s because you’re a good human, Stevie. A really, really good human who also happens to be a really terrific kisser.”

Steve slides his arms around Bucky and pulls him closer until their foreheads meet. “Are you sure?”

“I might need more evidence.”

Their mouths slot together repeatedly, soft whispers and confessions falling between them as their eyes grow heavier. Steve pulls the duvet up to their chins and slips his arms back around Bucky as their fingers and legs tangle together under the sheets. Steve’s chest warms his boyfriend’s back, and he curls tighter until they’re spooned together.

“Love you, Stevie,” Bucky slurs, his voice heavy with fatigue.

“Love you, too, Buck,” he murmurs. “Go to sleep, baby.”

His eyes droop closed, and he brushes his lips against Bucky’s twice more before they both drift into sleep. Alpine watches them both for a few minutes before yawning and curling into a ball next to Bucky’s chest. She kneads the material for a few seconds and then follows her owners into slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of weeks ago I stumbled upon a post (the above summary) by musette22, and it sparked an idea. Even though it was originally Evanstan, I heard Stucky in my head. I haven’t been reading Stucky long. I’ve been writing fanfiction for The Hunger Games (Everlark, specifically) since 2013, and while I enjoy Steve and Bucky, their voices weren’t inside my head (metaphorically, of course) telling me to write down their stories. I don’t usually get nervous posting fanfiction anymore, but writing something for a new (very large, very active, very talented) fandom is unnerving. If you choose to read, I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to stjohn22 and musette22 for extra eyes and support.


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